Raising Hell
by CocoaCucciola
Summary: Lilith and Mephisto are given the task of raising a baby... that isn't theirs. A demon child born of Satan himself, baby Amaimon. (MephistoxOC) Constructive criticism is welcome!
1. Chapter 1

Ok

Let us try a Blue Exorcist fic, shall we?

This is an AU story much like most of my unpublished fan fictions which will be published with time and plot organization(lol).

So, this is MephistoxOC, my original character Lilith. Satan dumps his child at their doorstep. They are left to raise it with what little experience as parents they have coupled with the fact that they have their own child on the way.

In raising the little demon, they begin to question having their child, if they're ready, and especially their marriage.

Summary:

Lily and Sam are given the task of raising a baby… that isn't theirs. A demon child, born of Satan himself, baby Amaimon.

PLEASE review and tell me how I could improve and/or continue this story! Don't make me cry ,,;A;,,.

She coaxed the baby to her breast, enticing the orphan boy with the promise of milk, fresh, warm milk;

Whispering in the softest of voices, "I'm here… I'm here."

It took some time, and a little patience, but he latched onto her foreign skin tone, bringing forth the sweet sustenance that every infant's promised.

Blue eyes locked with soft tangerine, and they remained trapped in the swirling pools that were the eyes of his surrogate mother. His stare was constant as the woman rocked him soothingly, sucking at a steady pace. A tiny white hand pressed firmly on the giving bosom, occasionally clenching and relaxing on the caramel skin.

He didn't know what this woman was to him. All he knew was the wonderful taste of her rich milk, and the wholesome feeling of it sliding down his throat.

There was a sudden movement against his back, and he stopped when the woman gave him a gleeful expression.

"Do you feel baby boy?" she asked, nudging the boy, coaxing him into feeding again. "Do you feel him kicking?"

And she went on to continue another one of her one-sided conversations with him.

The sound of the front door opening, then slamming shut nearly startled the woman out of her pleasant and comfortable disposition.

For a moment, she wasn't as calm and down to earth as usual. For a moment, she panicked. For a moment, she was an abused child once again, and her father'd come home to beat her. (A/N: A glimpse into Lily's past. I'm thinking of doing a few more implications of that later in the story if I get that far.)

But only for an insignificant moment.

Now…

Once again…

She was mother, and father was home.

Demonic father, wretched beast of Hell,… father.

His boots clacked against the hardwood floorboards into the very next room. He carried with him a bag of goods; sweets and pastries that were unacceptable for a healthy meal by angelic mother's standards.

Yet she remained seated in the rocker before the fireplace, the frown on her face looking so out of place. To this face, the orphan boy stopped once again. He knew something was amiss, but exactly what his infant mind just couldn't figure.

The emotions… so heavy in the room as the two exchanged glances.

Father unbuttoned his uniform, exhaustion pouring off of him like a river. It was visible, even in this dimly lit room. His aura became almost tangible as he glanced at his angelic spouse breastfeeding that beast. He was angry. He wanted the baby dead, its very life could cost him his job.

"You're feeding him what belongs to Jordan," he reminded her, polishing his glasses nonchalantly.

"Baby boy has enough," she retorted.

He sighed through his nose, catching the observant infant's eye. "I swear, you're going to be the death of me."

She paid the irate demon lord no mind and hummed a pleasant lullaby that had the child dosing in less than a few moments.

Peace was in the house once again as the woman laid the sleeping child in his cradle. A smile graced her face in watching his little chest rise and fall. there was a sense of fulfillment that came with mothering, and she simply couldn't wait for her little Jordan to be born.

"What an angel," she said softly to herself.

"Quite the opposite," father chimed in from his levitating love seat. His voice alone forced acid through mother's veins, her fingers clench against the pricey wood of the cradle.

He sipped his tea, a flavour he kept all to himself, never once allowing mother the slightest of sips.

Smiling in a sickeningly sweet manner, she waddled off into another room, just as dimly lit as the rest. Her hand traveled to her belly subconsciously as she went about her evening routine at her own leisurely pace.

It was quite obvious that father found her company a nuisance nowadays. He didn't hesitate to make that fact known. But, goodness, did she know he needed her now more than ever.

Or maybe she needed him. The could barely coexist with each other, but without one another, they would be unable to make it in this world.

"Perhaps, Lil', we could drop this little package off at the hospital nursery, huh?"

At this she glared. He wouldn't stop until he'd won over her decisions, it was always this way. His authority over her was high, nearly unreachable and it was unfortunate that he knew it. He could very well seize the baby, though it wouldn't blow over well for his well being. His reputation with the higher ups would be in ruins should they find out about the child's existence in his home;

Which would mean putting his over all plan in jeopardy.

He couldn't win either way…

The baby was a mistake.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Oh my god somebody likes my story! \(u)/=3=3=3=3 Happiness overflows! A bit rushed, I know, but I just wanted to give you an idea as to how Amaimon came into Lilith and Mephisto's hands. Also, I will be editing the first chapter, just to tweak it a bit. I just read over it and realized how shitty it was :'(…**_

_Several Months Prior_

Caught up in the intensity of her job and loving the adrenaline rush that came with it, a baby was the last thing on Lilith's mind.

A forest setting was her current playground as she reloaded her automatic firearm, blessed be, with _blessed _magazines. She was to exorcise any and all demonic organisms that had been occupying an area dangerously close to a children's playground.

To say that she loved her job would be an understatement. She absolutely adored it.

The feeling of her weapon, her faithful, relentless gun, unloading mag after mag into the impure flesh of her demonic victims. How lovely it was to send such wretched beasts back to Hell; not knowing which breath would be her last, it was all so invigorating!

Her prey was approaching quickly. A horde of hobgoblins, thinking they could somehow, by luck, gain the upper hand.

Oh, how horribly wrong they were.

There was nothing that made her job more interesting than having to exorcise a cocky demon.

It seemed her gun had a mind of it's own as she mowed down the entire flock in three swipes of her automatic.

She moved cautiously through the thick forestry, a slowly dying cigarette between thick lips. It was hard for her to tell what was smoke and what was demon-dust. Her breath fell away from her face in large, visible puffs of condensation and sweet smelling smoke. Though she was enjoying herself, she stayed on high alert. There was no way she'd let her guard down now, knowing how unpredictable these demons were; even more so now since they were in their element.

She had no partner to watch her back, but that was how she liked it. No group to slow her down, or move ahead when she needed to breathe. She could move at her own pace and get the job done just as efficiently. *_In case of emergencies though, there is of course a radio strapped to my shoulder._

As she made herself comfortable upon a fallen tree to recuperate, the sound of hisses and grunts reached her sensitive ears.

Nagas and… more hobgoblins?

Their behaviour was definitely a mystery to her. Earth demons weren't normally so aggressive.

She held her gun up defensively, not even trying to be inconspicuous about the fact that she was there to kill, but a piercing cry alerted her to a nest made in thick brush. Taking a step closer, the demons became restless and desperate, going after her like never before. It was clear that whatever was in their possession had to have been precious.

"They seem to be protecting something," she spoke into her communication device.

_Well, what is it then?_

She parted the brush carefully. She had no idea what to expect, it could have been anything. The sound of high pitched wailing assaulted her ears.

"A-a… a baby?"

_*And from the looks of it, he was hurt, and naked, and utterly alone. I saw so much of myself in that little boy, I nearly wept with him._

_His soft porcelain skin was marred with strawberry gashes and discoloured bruises and gritty black soot. And he was marked with odd tattoos. They may have been tribal, but my studies on diverse cultures of Assiah were lacking._

She stepped into the warmth of the brush, observing the tiny gift. There wasn't much to see. It was just him, a simple child. A simple, stark naked child; as if he was born from the earth itself. His shocking green curls covered his head and made waves in odd directions, much like over-tread grass.

She gave the child a pitiful but loving look.

_Lilith, are you there? What did you find?_

"Just send the *cutter. Mission complete."

The child had nothing. Who would leave their baby in such a horrible condition, not a rag on his back?

She kneeled beside the flimsy bed of leaves, arms outstretched, receiving the baby delicately, avoiding the possibility of irritating his wounds further.

The poor thing was shivering, his pale naked body _bathed _in injury.

She wrapped the mossy haired infant in the open flaps of her trench coat. Glancing around, the demon spawn seemed a little more at ease, and less willing to attack her. Still, she was on edge as she padded her way out of the forestry and after the disturbed landing area of the cutter.


End file.
